Daylight
by whenstarsdie
Summary: "They could be Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr again. Best friends. Happy. Even if it was just for a few more hours." In the daylight we'll be on our own, but tonight I need to hold you so close. Oneshot. Takes place after First Class. Inspired by Maroon 5's Daylight.


Daylight

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**Disclaimer:** X-Men characters created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. _First Class_ directed by Matthew Vaughn. I (sadly) own nothing but this ugh plot.

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The leaves outside the open window rustled gently in the cool night air of early autumn. Occasionally the branches of the tree right beside the window scratched lightly against the glass panes, whispering secrets to one another only they knew. Save for the few streetlamps directly below the window and a small nightlight on the study table in the room, it was pitch black outside. The mansion was mostly silent, reflecting the unearthly hour of the night where most of its inhabitants were sound asleep.

Yet Charles Xavier remained wide awake, a frown across his brows as he pondered over the documents scattered all over his oak desk. One hand braced his left temple while the other drummed fingers thoughtfully on the polished wood. An almost uncharacteristic sulk had settled upon his lips.

The call of an owl to its unseen companion distracted him briefly from his work. The lapse in concentration was just enough to bring his attention to another presence in his room – he had not been alone for the past 15 minutes.

"Good evening, my friend," he greeted cheerily, not even turning around to face the intruder behind his chair.

"It's barely evening anymore, Charles," came the clipped reply.

Charles smiled to himself, the only sign of him acknowledging the other's presence. His hand continued its motion on the shiny surface of his desk, the gentle _dum dum dum_ being the only sound in the room. Outside, the night had stopped its own song, as though it could not penetrate through the thick tension that had settled within the walls of Charles' bedchamber. Neither of its two occupants seemed to mind though, it was a good 10 minutes before the silence was broken again.

There was the gentle rustling of fabric accompanied by a soft sigh as Erik Lensherr rearranged himself into a sitting position on Charles' ridiculously large windowsill. "I must say," he let out a soft groan as he stretched out his stiffened legs, "you should be ashamed of yourself. Such sloppy security – your window wide open, your guard down; you would already be dead if I had any intention of killing you tonight." He flicked a random piece of dirt from under his middle finger with his thumb before lazily redirecting his gaze to the back of Charles' head.

Charles continued giving his work the majority of his attention. "Wasn't so _sloppy_ when you came by yesterday, was it?" He could barely suppress a victorious grin when he sensed his visitor tense up behind him. He allowed a moment for his words to sink in before continuing "Hank caught you on one of his security cameras."

"That's impossible."

There it was. That arrogant disbelief of personal failure so characteristic of his friend. Charles almost missed these conversations with the other man.

"Well, technically, Hank's cameras caught someone trying to trespass our property yesterday night. _I_ know it was you." He could almost hear the barely audible sigh of relief. The figure behind him relaxed considerably, sinking down onto the cool metal frame, his air of smugness returned. Charles fingers paused their drumming again and he reread an unsatisfactory line on the paper that had his attention. He thought it through and the slender digits continued their merry way. "I have nothing to be ashamed of, Erik, my friend. It should be _you_ who should be embarrassed of yourself; sneaking about the school at night _and _actually being spotted by my security system. This compound is very _Magneto-proof_, thank you very much; I have a responsibility to keep my students safe. You couldn't come within 10 metres of the school without being thwarted."

"And yet here I am, with your window wide open and not even an alarm going off; perhaps you've become a bit too complacent-"

"_Perhaps_," Charles cut in loudly, slowly turning around in his chair to face his intruder for the first time that night, "I had intentionally allowed it to be so. Did you think it was just chance that you could enter the school and come all the way to my quarters unhindered?" He wheeled his chair closer to Erik, coming out of the shadows the drapes had cast across his desk and into the moonlight. His eyes scanned the stunned man seated on the windowsill before him, one arm loosely balanced on a bent knee while the other leg stretched out along the long metal. His physique was still that of the fit young man whom he last saw on the beach, yet how his face had aged since that day. Hard lines were pressed into that dear face, lines of worry Charles knew mirrored those he himself had acquired since they parted ways. "You need to stop seeing everyone as the enemy, Erik," he continued in a softer voice, "not all of us are."

Erik froze momentarily before regaining his composure, the stunned open mouth now forming a grim thin line. "Hello Charles," he said softly, barely above a whisper. He swallowed once and gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Raven had told him about her brother's disability, yet seeing the ambitious young man once so full of life now trapped in a wheeled contraption seemed to be a basic violation of nature itself. It was abnormal; it was repulsive.

_It was all his fault._

The professor studied him for a moment longer before wheeling himself away towards his double bed. "What do you want, Erik?" he sounded tired, as though exhausted just from the words they had exchanged.

"I…" Erik swallowed again, mouth running dry. "I wanted to see you."

Charles gave a non-committed bob of his head, his floppy brunette locks falling over his eyes before he pushed them irritably away with one hand. "And now you've seen me."

Erik slid of the windowsill with the grace of a feline. "Your condition…" he waved one hand vaguely in the direction of the other man, "is it permanent?" His eyes met Charles' for a short moment then quickly glanced away, as though avoiding looking at the wheelchair could nullify its existence.

"I am a cripple, Erik."

The man let out a small sound of pain, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet as his fists clenched and eyes squeezed shut.

"I am a cripple, Erik," Charles repeated slowly, softly, as though comforting a wounded child. "I will never walk again."

Erik let out another anguished cry and turned to face his old friend, eyes shining brightly in the darkness. "I'm sorry Charles, I'm so sorry."

"You've said that before," Charles replied not unkindly, any animosity absent from his voice. "If you have come to apologise after six months for something that cannot be changed, then I suggest that you leave. Your apology changes nothing, my friend." Charles wheeled himself right beside his bed, effectively signalling to his visitor that their conversation was over.

The taller man crossed the distance between them with long strides. With each hand on either arm of Charles' chair, he spun the latter around, bending over so they were eye to eye. Neither said anything, just exchanging harsh breaths as one pair of eyes searched its counterpart. No words were spoken yet they did not need a language to understand each other.

"I'm sorry Charles, I never meant to…"

"I know you are, Erik. I know you are."

It was quiet, a quiet private exchange of thoughts and feelings that no one understood but them. Here was Magneto, defenceless against the Professor without his helmet; his mind and vulnerabilities laid bare to the other. Yet Charles did not even need to use his powers to prod the other man's mind to know what Erik wanted to convey.

One hand reached up and gently, a thumb traced a line down the middle of Charles' forehead. Erik slowly leaned in, resting his head where the coin entered Sebastian Shaw's head. Two pairs of eyes fluttered shut. "I'm sorry for putting you through that…" he breathed.

Charles gave the faintest of a nod, not moving his head much, not breaking the physical connection they had. The air around them stilled as they breathed in each other's exhales, as though the usual occupants of the night did not dare intrude on their quiet moment. It was soft, it was quiet, it changed nothing, yet it meant everything.

Charles pulled back a little, breaking their physical bond and earning him a disheartened noise from Erik's throat but it was silenced immediately when he pressed his head into Erik's broad chest, arms circling around the other's neck. The other man returned the gesture, eyes squeezing tightly shut. They remained there for a while, not saying anything, just _feeling_. Charles hands played with the metal chain he found around Erik's lean neck while the latter clutched tightly onto the professor's bedclothes.

Eventually they pulled away, not knowing who or what initiated it. Charles fingers ran the length of the thin metal as he leaned away from the other, his hands finally meeting at the pendant that hung from it. A glass capsule. And in it, a blood-stained bullet missing its shell. Charles' eyes darted back up to meet Erik's, not concealing the confusion and surprise in them.

"It is my reminder," Erik said simply, and a look of mutual understanding passed between them.

Wordlessly, Charles lifted himself up from his chair and onto the bed; Erik helping him arrange the blanket over his legs. "You should leave."

"Were you up waiting for me?" Erik asked casually, "You seem all ready for bed," he gestured to Charles' bedclothes as he slid under the covers beside the other man in one swift motion.

"You should leave," Charles repeated more firmly, switching off the last lamp in the room with his mind.

"I know," Erik agreed, propping himself up on one elbow as he watched the other, snuggling deeper into the soft mattress.

They stared at each other, a silent competition and a childish battle of wills before Charles backed down, turning away from Erik and shutting his eyes with a defeated sigh. It was hard to miss the pleased grin pulling on his lips.

"You forgot to pack your helmet with you; aren't you afraid I'm gonna invade your mind?"

"Not in this room." Erik shifted a little closer to the warmth of Charles' body. It reminded him of those days months ago when Charles and him would fall asleep beside each other while discussing plans for the future of the other mutants. It reminded him of those nights they stayed up talking about everything and nothing at all until sleep overcame them. It reminded him of his younger, more reckless, carefree days when the fate of the world did not rest upon his shoulders. The warmth made him feel safe, warm, _happy_.

The stars were fading; the sky was gradually getting brighter. When daylight hit the earth he would have to leave. When the sun rose they would be Professor X and Magneto again. But for the now, in the privacy of Charles' room and the darkness of night, they could be Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr. _Best friends. Happy. _Even if it was just for a few more hours.

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Charles Xavier roused to the sound of Hank McCoy's panicked voice blasting through his intercom system. Sunlight was already streaming in through the open window and the late morning wind was causing the abandoned papers on his desk to rustle as though irritated. He pushed himself up with both hands and stretched lazily like a displeased cat. His hands dropped back down to the mattress with a gentle _flop_. Squinting in the daylight, he reached for the intercom on his nightstand to assure Hank that yes, he was still very much alive and well.

Charles dropped back down bonelessly onto his plush headrest, letting one arm lie splayed across the vacant space next to his body. His eyes followed his hand with a curious fascination as it swept up and down the rumpled sheets. He tried not to think about the bodily heat still lingering on the fabric.

With a tired sigh Charles hauled his body into his chair in a well-practiced move. Shifting until he was comfortable, he directed his mode of travel towards the window, its panes threw open like an invitation to a welcoming embrace. The sun felt warm on his face as he squinted in its glare. He could see some students playing sports in the yard below his window. He watched them contently for a while before turning his attention to the distance beyond the grounds of the school.

"Good morning," Charles breathed. Then he reached out and shut his window.

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**A/N:** Ugh I started writing this like three years ago and I didn't know where it was headed. Only when I got really inspired by Maroon 5's _Daylight_ (by Adam Levine, Max Martin, SAMM, and MdL) did I manage to keep writing and fiiiiinaaaaaaalllllyy finish it.

Do feel free to point out any mistakes/typos. And please leave a review! Thank you!

And if you like it, I have more _Daylight_ inspired pieces from other fandoms on my Livejournal (the link is on my profile).


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